


Can of Worms

by GraviTim



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Light Masochism, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2018-08-31 05:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8566150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraviTim/pseuds/GraviTim
Summary: Flash is the new farmer in town, but keeps to himself most of the time. He never had much luck making friends in his life, and intends to live a life of solitude and isolation. Things don't get easier when he slowly finds himself entangled with the local deadbeat, unable to avoid the similarities that bring them together.





	1. In the Same Boat

My eyelids felt heavy, but I concentrated on the bobber adrift in the water. I felt more adept than ever, having my share of practice over the last few weeks. My grandpa’s old farm had fallen to me. As overrun and decrepit as it was, it was ideal for fishing, which all but consumed my waking hours since arriving. It wasn’t just a new hobby, it was a window into a different life ahead of me. I was ditching everything I had ever owned and everyone I had ever known. I had burned every bridge, violently, that I might never be able to traverse them again.

A quick dip of the bobber snapped me into attention, and I jerked the pole back to hook into my quarry. A bit of fair struggle with intermittent reeling and soon I suspended a decently sized sunfish above my head, admiring it with a sense of accomplishment. When its fight had all but vanished, I worked to detach its bleeding jaw from my hook, placing it among the dozen others lying cold and clammy in a nearby box. It was only early afternoon, but my arms were tiring from my inexperience, or maybe just my general lack of fitness. My body was changing, though, however slowly.

I stretched and stood, surveying the land with a tired, lazy grin. The space was massive, with waterways stretching around island-like land masses connected by makeshift wooden bridges. Tall grass grew indiscriminately, weaving through trees and stone cluttered by years of neglect. The house behind me was small, practically a shack, with nothing more than a bed and a fireplace. I had let the stress slide off me, I completely blocked it from my mind and supped up the crisp spring air. Sighing loudly, I closed my eyes and leaned towards the sun. Nothing could bother me here, I was finally alone, I could finally do whatever I wanted, on a schedule of my own.

It was hardly half a month ago that I resigned from my corporate job, sitting inside for hours on end, watching nothing the harsh blue light from my monitor. Life had been a train wreck since as long as I could remember. Even at an early age I was brimming with anxiety, I resorted to tears at the slightest provocation. Nothing seemed too insignificant, nowhere was safe from the looming pressure of performing at my best, or the gruesome savagery of failure. Regardless of what I did, the waves of guilt and fear overpowered me, until I eventually broke.

This was my only chance at living a better life, to leave all my expectations behind. No one was here who could judge me. I could leave the house a mess, bathe in a stream, or fish all day every day, it was nobody’s concern but mine. The fact that I made money off of the fish I was catching was just icing on the cake. The town was bustling with things to do, but I would take one thing at a time. For now, I just felt like ending the day with some time at the saloon.

 

It was a quiet, short stroll through the town to get to the Stardrop Saloon at the center, past the mostly defunct bus station and under the local general store. Animals chattered and leaves rustled, as the warm, strong breeze ruffled my already messy dark brown hair. I was wearing my most comfortable red jacket, prepared for the cool night air on the way back home in the middle of the night. I probably looked disheveled and smelled like fish and dirt, but the standards of the townsfolk I met so far were already pretty low for me. Most people were pretty friendly, even excited to see a new face, but didn’t appear to be particularly stuffy and kept to themselves most of the time. It was ideal, for sure, and I kept most interactions to a genial hello and common niceties. I saw a few people on my way and waved as I went.

The saloon was really the place to be, no one I had met was quite as friendly and welcoming as the owner Gus, or his cheerful barmaid Emily. Always smiling, they were perhaps the first to get to know me in any sense, harking to me as I entered.

“Flash, it’s good to see you!” Gus called from across the bar. 

I smiled and waved to him as well. Emily perked up and whirled around when she heard my name.

“Oh, Flash!” She exclaimed. She all but jumped over the counter to see me, “How’s the farm doing? Did you plant anything yet?”

I shook my head quietly, while smiling derisively.

“I planted that stuff Mayor Lewis gave me, but… I can’t be bothered. I’m just taking things at my own pace.”

She solemnly nodded, as if I had imparted some kind of wisdom. She had mentioned before that she loved the idea of working on a farm, but she seemed to bring that kind of enthusiasm to anything I talked about. It just seemed to me like she was nothing but smiles from the inside out. She always wore bright clothes complimented by her glimmering short blue hair. Gus on the other hand was stoutly and reserved, with a big bushy mustache and happy eyes. Maybe it was because the saloon received the steadiest patronage besides perhaps the nearby JojaMart, but either way it culminated in a reliably easy-going atmosphere.

I ordered a cold beer and sat by myself on a bar stool. I could expect a few regulars to shuttle in as time went by. There was an older woman Pam who you could set your clock by, coming in right on my heels and cozying herself up to Gus’ side for easy access to her nightly rounds. She recognized me by now, also content to dole out minimal pleasantries and keep Gus preoccupied with conversation. Almost everyone came by a time or two a week, up to a practical influx on Friday, which I mostly tried to avoid. Everyone had their own schedules and company as they saw fit, so I didn’t really stand out and was left unbothered by all but the occasional energetic discussion with Emily on the slower nights when she had less to occupy her.

 

There was one other regular though, usually coming in after Pam, slinking away to the corner of the bar without saying much of anything at all. It was hard not to notice him after the first few visits, because he was always there, standing unmoved like a piece of the furniture. He gave me a run for my money in shabbiness, wearing a heavy blue hoodie so threadbare you’d think it’d been recovered from a landfill. His grisly face was pale with at least two days of stubble apparently a permanent fixture, complimented by dark bags under his eyes. He was completely distant, not making eye contact with anyone in the bar on any occasion. It was pretty clear that he had one goal in mind, which was to get plastered and leave. 

One time our eyes met when I was casually looking over in his direction, and he immediately grimaced, as if begging me not to initiate a conversation. I could sympathize, so I left him alone. I hardly imagine he knew who I was, and I certainly didn’t go around making a reputation for myself. In a weird way, I started to build an imaginary respect for him, like two solitary boats drifting in nearby waters, not causing any commotion, leaving each other to their isolated lifestyles in harmony. 

 

With all the disposable income coming my way through compulsive fishing, and a veritable lack of bills and expenses, I was compelled to buy my two fellow regulars a round on me. Gus had the sense not to make a big fuss over it, and doled them out quietly. Pam found a way to make a fuss anyway, her loud voice brimming with unnecessary adulation. Smiling and averting my eyes, I glanced over at the man in the corner, just receiving a pint from Emily. Out of nowhere I was suddenly flush with embarrassment when his head rose up from its usual focus on the floorboards. I wondered what I would think if someone I never talked to suddenly bought me a beer. I’d probably think they had some kind of ulterior motive, that they were trying to rock the boat.

I looked away, staring at the door like I was expecting something. I tried to take my mind off of it, another small thing, like a spider crawling around in my brain, tickling it with anxiety. Part of me wanted to bolt and escape the thoughts running through my mind, but instead I tried taking a few deep breaths. I had to have perspective, I had to calm down and remember where I was. I had my own bed, my own safe space, and I had freedom. I didn’t want to begin letting the fear of messing up change a simple act into a bastion of regrets. The breathing helped, and a swig of the cold beer reminded me that things were okay. This was a good day. Fresh air, fishing, beer… it was all good. I calmed down.

I turned my stool back around to the bar and glanced over through the corner of my eyes. He was drinking as usual, it didn’t seem like any boats were rocked after all. Emily had come back around to me, seeming to be in the situation where she didn’t have much else to do.

“If you’re wondering, he appreciated it.” She smiled graciously, “He spends so much money here, it’s hardly a surprise.”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t really know much about him.” I continue on the subject, happy to break up my unwarranted breakdown with some light banter.

“Well you’d have a hard time if you tried,” she said, resting her head in her hands with an exuberant expression of worry. “Honestly, he’s not too friendly. That is… he really doesn’t like when people try to talk to him. It’s not like he gets in fights or causes any trouble. Maybe I’m being a bit too harsh. It’s like, I dunno, he’s completely shut off.”

I didn’t really want to take part in any gossip, but from my experience, Emily was just a very genuine person, without much of a filter when expressing her feelings. I could imagine what a blow it must have been for her vivacity to come up against an impenetrable wall. It was perhaps worse than I even thought. I figured for him to be much like me, but I’d hardly up and tell someone to bug off, even if they were bothering me. 

“Well I hope I didn’t bother him then.” I said curtly, forming a half-smile. Emily laughed in response.

“You didn’t! I really mean it, he spends way too much money here!”

I don’t think she realized how sad that sounded. When I looked over again, I was surprised to meet his eyes again. He didn’t frown, but rather looked away calmly. I imagined being in his position again. I’d probably be thankful, but not want to have to go to the effort of having to thank someone. It was good enough to put my mind at ease, at least.


	2. Neither Fish Nor Fowl

The next day was crisp, maybe because turning in so early meant I was awake right when the sun was coming up. It was a slow start, moving around trying to find a new position in bed as it dawned on me that I wasn’t tired anymore. It was a new feeling to have no alarm clock nor pressing matters to attend to. I was moved to sit in bed and stare out the window at all the grass collecting dew, glittering in the burgeoning sunlight as it peeked in through the trees. I imagined the sound of water lapping at the farm’s edge was a siren call asking me to pick up my pole and venture out to wherever the sound of fishes lead me. 

I threw on a cap to fight off the sun’s rays and looked for a shady spot to fish. I was having trouble settling on one spot on the farm that wasn’t fished out. I exited my plot to the south into a wooded area by a big animal farm owned by my neighbor Marnie. I hadn’t talked to her much, but it was hard not to run into her from time to time, and like many of the residents of the valley, she exuded friendliness. Then again, she was a businesswoman in a profession associated with a farming lifestyle. She did mention how she could sell me some animals if I ever felt like getting into livestock, but I gave her the same cool dismissal that I gave everyone trying to tie me into making an investment. That is, shrugging and saying I’d think about it.

The forest had a great big lake with a pier, but I started following along the path of the water’s edge which lead into the town by way of a divided river. I dropped my lure intermittently along the way, spending a few good hours trying to find the perfect spot, and settled on a bank right before the woodlands turned into a residential area. I could hear the soft sounds of animals going about their business, the occasional clucking and mooing joined by the unmistakable smell of manure mashed together with fresh hay. It wasn’t altogether unkind on the senses. It was almost a nostalgic smell, like fairgrounds or a zoo. More importantly, this spot hadn’t been fished out anytime lately, so the getting was good.

It was only about two hours into this newfound idealistic fishing spot that the animal sounds suddenly began growing louder, obviously disturbed by the soon-to-follow sounds of human shouting. The fish being adequately spooked, I couldn’t contain myself from ducking over to the only probable source, being Marie’s big farmhouse. The perpetrators were Marnie herself and the silent man from the bar, except he was wearing some kind of nondescript blue jumpsuit with a matching cap, the conspicuous attire of a minimum wage slave. In fact, in was a familiar sight for me, having worked inside the Joja company for the years prior to my detachment from society at large. A sharp pang of secondhand embarrassment washed over me. This guy was way too close to home for me, except instead of inheriting a secluded getaway, he appeared to be festering away in his mom’s basement, or some such similar arrangement. He looked way too old to be a freeloader of any amount of remaining dignity. This guy was digging himself into a hole at breakneck speed. 

I attempted to hide myself away before I could get involved, but found myself practically loitering in their neighbor’s backyard yard. I tried not to pry, but my mind couldn’t help but pick up words like ‘saloon’, ‘home’, ‘Goddaughter’ and ‘drinking’. It gave me enough of a gist to start feeling stressed out. Even the idea of getting a lecture made me want to turn to day drinking. Situations like this was what made being alone such an attractive option for someone as easily hassled as I was. I hadn’t made any friends since I got there, unless you counted dead fish or the stray cat that wandered around my property. 

It took a moment after clearing my thoughts to realize the animals had all calmed down, and the guy was standing nearby, looking straight at me. I would’ve thought to be scared or embarrassed, but his composure was completely unfazed. His expression gave the impression that he didn’t have anything else to lose. I wondered if there was any part of him that saw himself in me, or if he could even bother to drum up where he might recognize me from. He stood there completely silent for only a moment once I noticed him, then started walking again towards the town to my back. 

“Hey.” He was looking right at me, to my surprise. “Am I going to see you later?”

It was kind of a vague comment, but I quickly picked up on his wavelength, as though we had been talking the entire time I’ve been in town.

“You trying to say you need a drink after work?” was what I gathered, expressing what I had been feeling myself only moments before.

He looked sideways quickly, but seemed relieved as far as I could tell.

“If you’ll be there anyway, yeah.”

Without waiting for any kind of reply, he moved right past me, disappearing into the distance in a hazy malaise. I waited for a moment, reflecting on the first encounter I ever had speaking face-to-face with him. Frankly, I was thrilled.

My creeping sense of shame aside, I hadn’t realized until just that moment that he was the only person in the entire town that sparked any remote feeling of interest in me. The shame nagged at me, wondering what kind of motives I might have, maybe a kind of misplaced pity that I would never have wanted for myself. It felt shallow, but there was something I couldn’t resist about someone so overtly brusque. I envied him a bit for being so openly morose. It was a feeling I had wished I could let out for all to see, but tried to keep tucked away until it boiled over. I was completely, selfishly engaged with him now. I set the clock in my head, intuitively, that he’d be getting off work some time after 5PM. He had a full workday ahead of him, so that’s where the similarities ended. I had escaped that life by now.

My swimming thoughts slowed down for a moment to realize the difference in our situation. I tried to put it in perspective again, that I was thinking of him like some kind of oddity from ivory towers, having fled that life with relative ease. There was so much still that I had to learn about being comfortable with myself, and about starting my life over again from nothing. I resolved not to assume anything, to mellow out, and not obsess about it like I used to with every little thing anyone said to me. It started to work, but in letting go of my overthinking, I also let go of my inhibitions and wandered over to Marnie’s estate.

I waited a while, taking in the details I hadn’t given much thought to before. The front yard was a large yard stomped to dirt by the passage of multiple cows, goats, and hens. The area seemed tidy and well stocked. To someone who didn’t know much about animal handling, it looked like the animals were well at ease, clean, and tame. I supposed it would have been an awful storefront if the matron couldn’t even do her one job, but I had known through our casual encounters that livestock was more than just a profession for Marnie. It was pretty much all she ever talked about.

I knocked at the door and was beckoned inside. Marnie’s eyes lit up when she saw me, a fellow farmer, as far as she knew. It’s doubtful she'd ever fancied a look into my actual farmland if she was still optimistic about selling me on livestock. 

“Mister Flash, welcome, can I help you?” Her eagerness was a bit sadder than I had hoped, it was the kind of interaction I usually avoided like the plague. 

“I’m, uh, not here on business.” It was the kind of line I had heard in movies, and it seemed to work in lowering her excitement levels. “Just thought I’d visit as a neighbor, you know?”

I didn’t actually know myself, I had never been friendly with a neighbor in my life, but I couldn’t say I was there to get the dirt on her family. I tried to think of what normal people would talk about, or whether neighbors in these sorts of towns usually give these kinds of visits, but was thankfully received with a sigh.

“Ah, okay, in that case do you want some breakfast? I was about to make some scrambled eggs for me and my niece. I have plenty of eggs, believe me!”

An invitation as I had never imagined before. I wasn’t used to this kind of rustic hospitality, but I was far from shying away from it, it was exactly the kind of thing I was looking forward to. 

“Yes, that’d be great, I actually forgot to eat breakfast. I’m kind’ve new to this whole living alone thing.”

She chuckled, retreating from her spot behind the makeshift storefront built into her foyer. The kitchen was just a room over, where I noticed a small dark-haired girl sitting at the table, looking despondent. I wondered if I hadn’t intruded on a family moment, but tried to go with the flow and sat down across from her. She looked at me inquisitively for a moment, then looked away with distaste.

“I don’t know you.” She said matter-of-factly. I guess bluntness runs in the family.  It was still refreshing.

“Yeah, sorry,” I said in reply, “I’m your neighbor though, I live up past the forest.

I could tell she was listening, but she was still obstinately looking off into the distance. Marnie had brought in a pail from the door beyond the kitchen. It was clear from the layout that the hens must have been sleeping just beyond, opening out into the yard. The pail was filled to the brim with more eggs than I had ever seen, but she gingerly picked out three after carefully inspecting them. Washing them in her sink, she began conversation back up again.

“How’s it going at the farm? It’s such a big plot of land, but so much of it is covered in water!” 

She seemed genuinely interested, I wondered if she hadn’t wondered how that kind of space could be used if she could have claimed it for herself before I arrived. I tried to dash the accusations from my mind, it occurred to me that I could be quite petty when left to my own devices.

“It’s really nice, beautiful, relaxing…” I started saying, not having much to say besides what I told the others who had asked the same routine question, but I tried to pry, “You seem like a good neighbor to have, I hadn’t really met your family before though.”

Marnie paused for a second, washing the eggs in the sink with care. She turned over her shoulder with a big smile.

“Well, I could introduce you to all the animals some day, if you have a wealth of patience, but I see you’ve met Jas already.”

She must be referring to the little girl, in a cute little purple dress with her hair tied up in bright green bows, I imagined she must have her fill of being carted out to others, being one of the only children the whole town has to offer. Jas showed no signs of complying and started playing with the fork on the table, making it hop back and forth like it was dancing.

“Yeah, sort’ve.” I shrugged. Marnie laughed it off again, as it seemed she was quite used to it. As far as I could tell, Marnie was comfortable with having company over and was hardly fazed at all by her more socially inept housemates.

“Also, my nephew is living with me as well. Shane, but, he just left actually, to work, that is.”

Shane, huh? I guess we never really introduced ourselves.I felt I was letting the conversation lull. 

“That’s nice, I wasn’t ever that close with my family.”

Another long pause. Marnie grabbed a pan out from under her stove and put the eggs to the side on the counter. I suddenly felt hyper aware of my surroundings, the cozy little house with the portraits on the wall, of people I had never met. My isolation suddenly felt very real. I lived in a different world from these sorts of familial bonds, almost flippantly casting them off like shackles.

“It was my grandfather’s farm though, maybe you met him before?”

Marnie laughed, and the mood in the room brightening back up to a palpable temperature.

“Yes, he was a good man, a really good man! He was very fond of goats, if I remember correctly! He had all kinds of gadgets and stills, a real man of the land!” 

She mused on about my grandfather for the duration of her cooking routine, only pausing to ask me how I liked my eggs cooked. Once she found a topic she was comfortable with, she settled in like a cat on the tail of its prey, describing all kinds of little occurrences and encounters with him as she knew him. Apparently, she hadn’t actually seen that much of him. It didn’t end up surprising me too much that she was too young to be Shane’s mother, but their ending up living together was still shrouded in mystery. I couldn’t help but notice that from where I was sitting, there were no pictures of Shane on the walls. There was a good chance that he hadn’t come there by choice.

“So, your niece and nephew living with you, that must be nice.” It was a bit abrupt, but sitting down with the plates in hand to dish out, she retained her glee from before.

“It is! Jas is taking to learning from the tutor in the town quite well, and, well, Shane helps with the chickens, so I really can’t complain! He rents out the room, so it helps with the upkeep as well.”

“Ah, yeah, I think I’ve met him a few times in town.” I looked at the fresh eggs on my plate and was momentarily distracted, “This looks incredible, I don’t think I’ve ever had fresh eggs before…”

Marnie beamed with a sense of unadulterated pride.

“Well get ready for the experience of a lifetime. After this you’ll be clamoring to own some chickens of your own!” She gave me a coy wink and nudged her silverware through the air as if to goad me into digging in as soon as possible.

She wasn’t wrong, it was really something else. It was easy to get carried away with the easy life, letting things go as they did until the end of time, but as I took my first bite my mind began to race with a million ideas. All of the opportunities that arose with having land of my own, fresh produce, fresh animal products, I had never taken into consideration what that really meant, or that it could ever make much of a significant difference. I had eaten some of the fresh fish I had caught, but as I wasn’t actually that fond of fish, it was more of a necessity than it was a favor to myself.

I nodded vigorously. I suddenly felt jovial, fat on the inspiration. I struggled to swallow before I could begin speaking.

“It’s really good!” I laughed, Marnie seeming thoroughly pleased.

Even if it was a ploy to convince me of the benefits of livestock ownership, I couldn’t help but be thankful. Jas was staying quiet for the whole duration, but she ate at her food just as much as poked at and played with it.

By the time I tried bringing the visit to a close, it was already nearing noon. Marnie was eager to be a good host, so I plied her with adoration to try and ease myself away from the kitchen. Eventually Jas left for her lessons and I was able to skirt out as well. All in all it had been an incredible experience. It seemed like such a faraway concept that people might spend time together like this often, maybe even everyday. The realization came with a semblance of sadness and exhaustion. Keeping up conversation for a long time while trying to dodge around my own social ineptitude had taken it out of me. As much as I could appreciate Marnie’s hospitality, I couldn’t imagine making a habit of spending time with a table of people.

  
It was easy to pass the time until the evening, taking all my fishing gear back to the house before tottering over the the saloon in high spirits. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm intended for this to be a relatively long fic if the pacing hasn't given that away yet. Updating will depend, but I will try to do at least one chapter a week


	3. Fish Out of Water

Something was eerie about visiting the saloon with the expectation of meeting someone there. Something crawled up into my gut, like how I felt when I tried to offer a round of beers, or the countless times before when I put my foot forward before thinking things through. I stood stock still in front of the door, my hand inching away from the doorknob closer to my side. It was better to not have any expectations, or really, better to not make any connections at all. I shuddered at the thought, but pushed forward.

I received the usual salutations from Gus and Emily, along with some quiet recognition from Pam. I felt like I didn’t know what to do with my body, so I maintained the usual routine. I approached my bar stool robotically, keeping my eyes fixed on the middle distance. I tried to shake the awkwardness, but ended up lost in my thoughts in the process. Emily approached me with measured caution.

“Are you okay, Flash? You didn’t say hi or anything.”

Her brightness loomed into the periphery of my vision and brought me back to earth.

“Sorry, I’m a bit worn out. I don’t think I’ll be much of a conversationalist today.”

She nodded sagely, waving her hand like a queen pardoning a prisoner.

“Say no more!” She added gleefully. She must have worked at the establishment long enough to know the best approach for different kinds of drinkers. She had probably rehearsed it on Shane plenty of times in the past. She simply pointed at the beer on tap with a quizzical face waiting for a sign. I gave a weak thumbs up, which started the night rolling. 

Shane walked in shortly after, taking the stool next to mine. Up close he didn’t strike a very good impression, his smell was worse than I had imagined, no doubt having come straight to the bar from work. He looked overly tired, like his whole body was going to melt into the chair the second it hit. His descent was followed by a melodramatic, loud sigh. 

“Hey.” He said, somewhere mid-sigh. His tiredness exerted its pressure across the entire room. “By back hurts like hell.”

Emily looked over with a worried expression, or one of profound confusion, seeing as I mentioned wanting to be left alone. I tried putting up two fingers to see if she could catch on, and almost immediately her face lit up as she started to pour a second beer.

“Shane, right? I’m… Flash.” 

He looked at me sideways with a face like I had insulted him, 

“I’ve never heard a weirder name in my entire life,” he said in an unaffected monotone, “but you probably get that all the time.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as Emily arrived with the drinks. She didn’t spend much time lingering before flitting off to the other guests that had started filtering in. Shane raised his glass half-heartedly, taking the chance to look me in the face.

“Thanks, I mean it.” He waited for me to put my glass up as well before taking a swig.

We didn’t talk very much as the night went on. He mostly nursed his drink, sometimes even completely disregarding that I had said anything. It was a pace I was more than willing to match, letting my mind wander. He mostly talked about his job, and asked me a bit about the farm. It wasn’t a far departure of subject matter from what others had been asking me since I arrived, but it was nice to get some actual talk in after most of our relationship had been imagined from across the room.

After trying to meet him on rounds, the fifth was finally my last. I started to feel a powerful buzz, losing a good measure of my coordination and gaining a great deal of giddiness. Shane on the other hand only seemed to shrink further and further into himself, getting quieter as the night went on.

He nudged the fifth glass forward unceremoniously, waving his hand at Emily for another. It wasn’t that far into the night, so through the fog over my eyes I sloppily put my hand on Shane’s shoulder.

“Wait, really?” I managed to get out. I realized that my tolerance levels would be pitiable compared to someone who drinks every night, but I couldn’t help but notice he was going through them a lot faster than usual. My slowed reflexes weren’t prepared for when he grabbed my wrist. The motion made me realize how sick I felt, and that a pounding headache was starting to creep into my temples. I craned my neck and squinted my eyes to try to grasp his expression. He seemed soft and sad.

“You’re a real lightweight, huh?” He changed from holding my wrist to supporting my arm from the elbow. “Hey, let’s get you home.”

I nodded emphatically, wanting nothing more than to pass out in my own bed. The taste of the beer lingered in my mouth, making it dry and bitter. The light feeling in my head was pleasant enough while sitting down, but when Shane roused me to my feet it started to feel more like spinning. I leaned hard into his arms, not having noticed the gravity of my intoxication. He didn’t make a sound, but instead started leading me out into the cold night air.

Most of the walk back was a blur, but it seemed to mostly go well as I was eventually able to gain my bearings and walk on my own. The song of the evening insects seemed particularly loud and grating. I glanced over at my chaperone, who hadn’t said a word since we had left the saloon, walking forward with an urgent look on his face. Either he was hiding it well, or he was completely undaunted by the amount of alcohol in his system. I got the impression that I had made a fool of myself, and started embarrassedly rubbing the back of my neck, my face burning from the consumption.

“Sorry.” I said quietly, under my breath, “I can get home from here.”

“We’re almost there,” he said in his usual unamused monotone.

Even in my stupor, I began to feel like a child. Shane was hardly living a fulfilling adult life, but I wasn’t living a life at all. Wandering around aimlessly doing whatever came to mind only worked as a short-term recovery plan, and it could certainly go south if I made just even a few bad decisions. I wasn’t prepared for anything to go wrong, like my house burning down or a flood taking all of my fishing gear out to the sea. I was acting like a kid on a field trip, when everyone else here was trying to make a living.

We entered into my farm after a short while, with my shack of a house easily accessible from the path out of town. Shane stopped at the door when I went to open it. I looked back with a gracious smile.

“Thanks. I guess you don’t owe me after this.”

Shane scratched at his head and smoothed his careless, greasy black hair back, only to have it fall back to it’s usual place around his face. He sighed a time or two trying to come up with a response.

“Don’t make a habit of this… okay?” He looked everywhere but at me, “You’ve got a future ahead of you. Don’t throw it away.”

I felt crushed, having already admonished myself enough without having to hear it from someone else. At a frantic pace, my mood cycled through anger at him, anger at myself, regret, then finally acceptance. Running away to this town wouldn’t mean anything if I failed here too, I could see in Shane’s uncomfortable posture that he was expecting me to follow in his path. Maybe I would have, but something about his earnestness changed the way I felt about this town. It also changed the way I felt about him.

“I won’t.” I tried to talk with clarity, and tried to make a face like I was serious. My success on that front was up for debate. Shane either didn’t believe me, or didn’t care, as he shrugged and turned around to walk off in the direction of Marnie’s farmhouse.

I watched him for a bit as he walked off, not sure what to think. The only phrase that repeated in my head was ‘tomorrow everything's going to be different’. I couldn’t know if I would be able to muster up the motivation to accomplish anything, but part of me wanted to prove myself. It wasn’t a completely new feeling, I had always wanted to be an exemplary human and be lauded for my accomplishments, but the anxiety had always taken control by the last minute. The feelings of guilt for never getting anything finished, or the feeling that anything I do could never be good enough was pervasive across any project I enthusiastically tried to start.

It could be different now though, since no one was watching me but myself, and I was the only person I had to prove anything to. Then somewhere along the way I could casually wave to Shane and say something like, ‘nothing to worry about here, I’m a contributing member of society!’, but the thought of it danced around in my head uselessly like it was trying to find footing on a bed of ice. I wasn’t sure what made me care about what Shane thought of me, but the longer I dwelled on it, the more I was sure it was a driving force in my mind.

  
I found my way to my bed and shooed away the stray cat that had found its way inside. It moved from the bed to a lonely chair in the middle of the room, like it couldn’t believe my audacity. Barely able to contain my racing thoughts, I eventually passed it to fitful rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally made a solid outline for the story, and I don't expect to have any mature themes besides general Shane warnings and strong language until chapter 10 or so, if anyone was wondering. I hope to make it worth the wait, and I hope you're enjoying the fic so far


	4. A Hard Egg to Crack

I woke up much later than usual with a bit of a lingering headache, and had to put a considerable amount of effort into grabbing my cup and cranking out the well water needed to sate my dehydration. After chugging two cups and sitting around in the afternoon sun, I felt regulated. The stray cat wandered around me quizzically, and darted back and forth chasing the local small animals. In the time it took me to recoup, I watched it run around inexhaustibly, and decided to lovingly name it ‘Gun’, not just because of its speed, but because I was terrible at naming things.

Even after the headache has finally passed, there was a strong urge to let the day die out without doing anything. Looking outwards into the fields of debris, I was heavy with the weight of the work to be done. There would be days where I woke up without a headache, earlier in the morning, and I could have even waited for winter for all the grass to die out on its own. Maybe a lightning storm would strike down all the dying trees and they would naturally flow downstream and become the home to some lazy beaver with a hangover of its own.

I entertained the thoughts gleefully, twirling the patented carousel of excuses around in my head. The most salient fact that egged me into inaction was that I had no actual way of telling what time it was. I assured myself that all the shops were probably closed anyway. My eye caught a particularly bustling area in the stream and I ended up walking down the length of the farm until I managed to convince myself to walk the rest of the way to Marnie’s house. Barely any time had passed since I joined her for breakfast, so I worried that I might have broken some sort of social code about neighborly visits. It could be that I was supposed to bring something in return, or something. It was hard to tell when there was no data on the subject to be found in the recesses of my socially negligent mind. Boldly, I walked in anyway.

Marnie was milling about, freshly muddied boots sitting by the door to the barn. Jas was sitting by the hearth in the living room beside the foyer. The fire was flickering healthily while she cozied up on the rug and read a book. When she heard the sound of the door opening, her head jerked around to look at me and she frowned.

“Auntie Marnie! The neighbor is here!” She yelled in a bored, loud voice. It caught Marnie’s attention unlike the door had.

“Hi, Mr. Flash!” She smiled, whipping around from whatever she had been doing in the kitchen, “Come on in!”

I entered graciously, bowing my head awkwardly in response. We traded some casual accepted conduct before I inched my way to the topic most pressing to me at the moment.

“Uh, so…” I scanned the house for a wall clock but didn’t see one in immediate eyesight, and gave up the charade, “do you know what time it is?”

Marnie looked confused at first, but then it dawned on her that I had only been in town for about three weeks, and wasn’t quite settled in or acclimated to the farm lifestyle. Even after the look of clarity passed her features, she rubbed her chin as if the answer wasn’t so simple.

“Say, do you want me to teach you how to tell the time with the sun? It will save you a lot of trouble down the road.”

What followed was a crash course in time telling and early warning meteorology. It wasn’t at all what I was expecting, but when it came down it it, it was all very simple. It suited greatly to think of time as a general part of day rather than hours and minutes, it was something Marnie seemed to think was mandatory farming knowledge. As it turned out, it had been the early afternoon when I woke up, and was somewhere around the mid-point before it became evening. The sun starting to hang low and the cooling air would have made that clear anyway.

“Hey, so, this is out of left field but, do you enjoy farm life?” I said distractedly after the lesson seemed to mostly wrap up. Marnie looked thoughtful, but replied right away.

“I love animals, Mr. Flash, I always have. They are amazing, and everyday I’m happy that I get to be with them and take care of them. Having a life where my whole day revolves around animals has been a dream for me since I was a little girl.”

It almost sounded rehearsed, but her face beamed proudly like it came straight from her heart. She didn’t seem to have anything to add, no drawbacks or letdowns, and continued beaming at me like I was supposed to heartily agree.

“It’s pretty hard, though, right?” Was all I could think of.

“It’s hard, sure, but there’s a big difference between doing something hard because you have to and doing something hard because you want to.” Her sentence cut to my core, even if it was hardly new information. 

It was the difference between people like Marnie and people like Shane, or me for that matter. It made me wonder what I really wanted after all, having only been preoccupied with escaping and hiding, I realized had nothing I was working towards. It sounded like a good feeling, coming from her. I wouldn’t even know where to start, but it reminded me of what Shane had said the night before: that I had a future ahead of me. I couldn’t think of what kind of future he thought he saw in someone as hopelessly without a cause as I was. When I was confronted by people with a purpose like Marnie, I couldn’t help but feel like a newborn baby devoid of any purpose or personality.

“I was thinking about those eggs…” I said timidly, talking before I thought it through, “like, it’d be nice to have a few chickens, you know?”

I had lit the fuse of the onslaught of information Marnie began to shovel onto me. She animatedly explained chicken personalities and care, how they were relatively easy to care for if you were willing to get up every morning to give them the necessities. She explained how the local carpenter in the mountain base could build me a small coop and a silo, and how rewarding it was to care for living things. It didn’t come as a surprise that she would fully endorse a lifestyle that would get her some kickback, but it was hard not to get caught up in her fanaticism. 

She invited me in for some coffee to talk about chickens more, but I politely passed, having filled my Marnie quota for the day. She was quick to warm up to me, but all the kindness in the world couldn’t change the fact that an hour of interaction was putting me on edge. I got the feeling that Marnie might not talk to people that often, but out of physical seclusion from the rest of the town and a farm that kept her busy most of the day. I promised her that I would continue looking into it and would come to her if I had any questions and then went on my way.

I meandered around with my fishing gear for a while but couldn’t get my mind off the last few days, sometimes drifting off while looking into the deep blue water, letting a fish get away when I failed to notice that it nibbled away all my bait. I grimly stared at my reflection in the gleaming waters, with my shaggy, unkempt appearance and my tired eyes looking gloomy. When it started to get dark, I packed my things and my meager catch and started to head home through the forest. 

The day had seemed so short, and I felt like I had nothing to do in my cabin. Normally I would go to the saloon at night, but as it was Friday I wanted to avoid the big crowd. I felt a bit redeemed at having spent some time with another person during the day, but unsure about what to do next. My endless amount of free time had been a boon to me when I first arrived, but after only a short while it began to feel like a crutch. 

My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed a lantern light by the big pond near the south entrance of my farmland. Someone was sitting on the pier, but it was hard to see who with them being silhouetted by the light behind them. They didn’t seem to take any notice of me as I got closer, taking to staring into the water. When I noticed the dirty cooler and the crushed cans of beer sitting at his side, I concluded the only possible suspect. He seemed like he might want to be left alone, but eventually the sounds of my jangling gear got to him, and he snapped out of his stupor.

“Hey. Flash.” He called over to me, and I followed the cue and put my stuff down to join him.

I sat down beside him, his face still in total darkness. He reached out with a beer in hand to offer to me, and despite my rocky morning and his prior advice, I gladly accepted.

“I was just thinking that I had nothing to do tonight.” I said, smiling. I was probably as shrouded in darkness as he was at this point, but I heard him weakly chuckling like he understood.

“There’s never anything to do here,” he added morosely, with a bitter tone to his words, “Life, huh? What’s there to look forward to?”

I made a pained expression, but was sheltered by the anonymity of the darkness around us. I couldn’t even see myself in the water like I had before, we were both just black gloomy shadows. I hadn’t had time to give it much thought, but the question had been lingering in my mind the whole day. 

“I don’t know. Even if I had everything handed to me, I wouldn’t know what to do with it.” I wouldn’t normally be so candid, but Shane put me completely at ease. I wasn’t about to become scared or sheltered when he himself always left his guard down. “I don’t even know what I want, when I try to think of what makes me happy, it’s… it’s just a fog. I don’t know what to look for.”

I downed a bit of the beer, but it was kept too cold to chug outright. Shane was silent, but it seemed like his body was turned to look at me. I rubbed my eyes as I nursed the head rush I got from the icy drink. The only other sounds were the water’s lapping against the shore and the myriad of insects chirping an incessant cacophony. Shane gave out an exasperated noise.

“Buh… if I was handed everything… I think I’d buy out a gridball team. I’d live in a decked out penthouse suite on top of a huge building in the biggest city in the world.”

It took me a moment, but then I laughed. 

“That would be a pretty stressful job, wouldn’t it?” I joined in the distraction, him instantly responding with his big plans of hiring a bunch of people to do all the hard work for him.

I lost track of time as we went on about fantastical dream jobs, without touching much on anything too real. As I got a few beers deep, the laughing got louder and the jobs more extravagant. After a while, the moon began shining over the water’s surface, illuminating Shane’s face despite the light behind him. He was smiling earnestly, with the alcohol and laughter bringing color into his usually pallid features. The sight brought an uncharacteristic flutter up from the pit of my stomach. 

“Well… do you want to know the truth?” When Shane picked up on the dwindling enthusiasm for the conversation, he took on a more serious tone.

“Sure, hit me.”

He looked sternly at the empty can in his hands, shaking it back and forth to verify its lack of contents.

“Even if I was handed everything, I’d probably find a way to mess it up.”

I didn’t actually feel like I knew him well enough to jump to his defense without sounding shallow, but it still seemed like a harsh appraisal. My mind searched for some kind of rebuttal or proof that he had done something right, but ended up grasping at straws. It could be that he was right, maybe he ruined everything he touched for all I knew.

“Well… at least you’re honest.” I concluded. He didn’t smile or laugh, but his look seemed far from dower. I wanted to try my hand at being positive, but everything that came to mind sounded cheesy and fake. I wondered how forthright I could be before it went from being authentic to being verbal garbage. “And… uh, you’ve really brightened up my day. I don’t know if that means anything.”

There was silence in reply. I figured I had said something upsetting, but I didn’t want to look over to gauge the response. I wasn’t too worried, unlike my usual calculated interactions. The lack of pressure I felt interacting with Shane was the greatest gift my faint heart could ask for. Even when I put my soul on display, I wasn’t scared of what he’d think of me. It could have been that he mostly didn’t seem to care one way or another what I did with my life, or some false sense of brotherhood, like I was talking to someone who knew what I was thinking. It felt like a minute had passed before he made the effort to grab himself another beer out of the cooler.

“You’re weird.” He said, breaking open the top loudly, “But I like that about you.”

I kept to a two beer minimum and we passed through a good deal of the evening sitting together in peace and quiet.


	5. Whatever Floats Your Boat

The next morning, things felt different. When I lay on my bed awake the night before, I thought highly of myself and the day before. It was like I had been standing at the boundary of a maze and the pathway through had just been pointed out to me. Now, though, I felt none of that. It was like a memory of a time long ago about something that happened to someone else. My morning was only accompanied by lethargy and a feeling of otherworldly distance from everything. I imagined looking out around the farm area at all the trees, rocks, streams, and knee-high grass. It felt like it was a mile below me, inching away as I floated into space.

 

Just one thing remained cooly in place, undisturbed by reaching thoughts. ‘Even if I was handed everything, I’d probably find a way to mess it up.’ It repeated over and over, resonating with me until my heart rose up into my throat. I was suddenly struck with the urge to cry, but the origin of the feeling was so vague that I had nothing to latch onto. I knew if I dwelled on it much more that I would probably end up wailing over nothing much more than confusion and discomfort. From experience I knew the only real recourse was to distract myself.

 

I distracted myself for several days. I retracted into myself and refused to leave the property in fear of running into someone who might try to start a conversation. They were fine and all, but I just didn’t have anything to say. I figured I had the benefit of having a place where I could live out my reclusive fantasy of not having any social responsibility whatsoever. I even tried to forage for food in the woods nearby, but quickly realized that I wasn’t even sure what was edible or not. I knew so little of anything, even Marnie telling me how to tell the time of day was a revelation. 

 

What a waste of air, what a misuse of an opportunity. What was my grandpa thinking, anyway. He could very well have just sold the farm for a good deal of money, even despite the water in the area. Emily wanted to work on a farm and plant her own vegetables, and Marnie could probably use the land to feed and water her animals. What if Shane had inherited the farm instead? He at least worked with Marnie, so he probably already knew more than me about farming. It made me chuckle indignantly to think that he couldn’t even recognize a real fuck-up when he saw one. 

 

By Wednesday I had finally exhausted my reserves of food and needed to head into town to get more. I wondered if any attempt at farming would work, where I could stay hidden at home even longer. I could eat my own food and re-seed the garden with the old food. That’s how it worked, right? I didn’t even know where to begin with it all. Surely someone in town would know a good deal about farming, but how would it look if I started asking such stupid questions. I inherited all that land for free and don’t even know what to do with it. What a waste.

 

There was a general store where I could buy some seeds, but it was closed in the middle of the week. I was glad for it anyway, because the owner was such a pain. I couldn’t stand such a personality the way I was now. I understood he was desperate to compete with the Joja Mart nearby, but he was pushy and was always trying to upsell and guilt trip, even if I was just browsing around. Luckily for me, Gus fancied himself a cook and the Stardrop Saloon doubled as a kind of restaurant. I could also pawn some food off him to take home, so in my opinion it was the only stop in town I ever needed.

 

Admittedly, I hadn’t even tried to go around and learn what all the town had to offer. I knew there was a beach to the south where I intended to go fish once I got up the energy. It was a long walk from the house so it was pretty much never worth it. It would probably be pretty easy if I got a horse from Marnie, but how would I afford it, or feed it? How could I take care of an animal I know nothing about. Every time I thought about something like this, my head started spinning around with cyclical arguments that all came down to, ‘it’s too hard’ in the end. Not only that, but, ‘what if I just mess it all up anyway.’

 

My entrance into the saloon was greeted by the usual response. Emily and Gus were two people that I honestly liked, even when they were too friendly. When I tried to think of why, it was probably just that I actually spent the time to get to know them. Maybe everyone in town was just as nice, but how was I supposed to talk to them. I wasn’t about to manufacture some kind of situation to make new friends. I would probably just disappoint them if they knew I wasn’t some kind of hotshot farmer about to bring some much needed business into the local economy. I didn’t have anything to offer in a friendship, and any summation of me would leave a bad impression. It was a mystery why Emily took to me, and I could only assume she felt a sense of saintly pity. Gus could be written off as just having a respectable amount of customer service.

 

“Flash, I haven’t seen you in sooo long.” Emily tried to start a conversation with me after I sent Gus into the back to pick out some groceries for me.

 

“It’s only been, like…” I thought about it hard, having lost track of the days, but I remembered it must have been a Friday where I had been avoiding the saloon to begin with, “...six… days, I guess.”

 

Emily paused, holding her arms together and looking at me throughly. She likely meant well, but I didn’t want her to start appraising my mental health, especially when it was a bar she was worried about me not patronizing. I gave her a skeptical grimace, and she seemed to snap to.

 

“Ah, well, hmm….” she appraised my expression, “nevermind, I’m sorry!”

 

She waved it off embarrassedly, so I intended to let it go, but while waiting for Gus she continued to look back at me a time or two. She eventually sighed and returned to my side across from the counter.

 

“Flash, can I be serious for a moment?” 

 

Her face was very earnest, and more than anything it piqued my curiosity. It had the edge of feeling like something I didn’t want to discuss, but I figured Gus would be back soon anyway, so I nodded in confirmation.

 

“It’s been a week, Flash. The last time I saw you, Shane was walking you home because you were tipping over.” She clutched the jewel on the necklace she was wearing and twirled it in her fingers nervously, “It’s not your fault, but I was just really worried, I didn’t know if you were okay.”

 

This was one of the things I hated most of all. I should have told her I didn’t want to talk. It gave me a headache to think I owed it to people to keep them informed on whether I’m okay or not. I was in such a bad mood that I didn’t even want to explain myself.

 

“Don’t worry about me.” 

 

“W-well, you seem fine anyway, so…” She tried to correct her disposition and put on a wavering smile. “Shane’s a good guy… he walked you straight home and you just didn’t want to drink anymore, right?”

 

I tried to parse her meaning. It was strange wording, so she must have been trying to suggest something that she was too polite to say out loud. Shane is a good guy… was she trying to get me to prove Shane didn’t do anything bad? Did she think he might have mugged me, or taken stuff from my house? It never occured to me before, but probably because I didn’t have much worth taking anyway. Did she think he might take advantage of me while I was drunk? Now that was a laugh, to think Shane would…

 

I suddenly felt like I had been struck by lightning as a chill ran through my whole body, starting at the back of my neck and ending at the tips of my fingers. Shane, touching me. I hadn’t thought about something like that in a long time, so the thought absolutely electrified me. The images starting piling on one after the other, along with confusion and fear. It was an intense, automatic reaction, and I tried to quell it by pushing it aside.

 

“Yeah. He’s a good guy.” I replied quietly, fixing my gaze on an insignificant spot on the wall. 

Gus came around with the basket I brought full of bread and vegetables. I hurried along with the good-byes, not knowing what time it was and how long it would be before the bar started filling up. I felt desperate to not be seen by Shane. I didn’t know how I would feel if I saw him, though my heartbeat quickened when I thought about the chance that he could be there any moment. Without warning I was overcome by salacious thoughts and they demanded a spot in the frontline of my thoughts. I tucked the basket under my arm, what if he kissed my neck, and waved idly as I walked out the door. I looked over my shoulder before I headed in the direction of home, or if he slipped his fingers under the lip of my pants, right there between my hip and the tender skin of my lower stomach. Would he be rough and sloppy, or would he be shy and tender… would he tease me or would he act dirty…

 

I nearly tripped over my own feet, barely cognisant of my surroundings as I meandered dreamily towards my house. I was lonely. I was awash with a sense of distant shame, but it was trumped by an alarming horniness. What if he had pushed me onto my bed and kissed me, what would I have done? If he showed up at my house, would I want to grab him and tell him to do what he wants with me? By the time I had gotten home, I didn’t feel any shame at all. I thought about being touched, about the feeling of someone’s breath, someone’s moans, the idea of someone wanting me. It wasn’t long after getting into my bed that I beat off to the idea of someone being there with me.

 

God.. of Shane being there with me. I laid stock still, breathing heavily with a blank mind. My pants were hastily pushed just far enough down to not even reach my knees, and my body was awash with pleasure and exhaustion. The realization began to slowly trickle back through my mind, and it was so gross that I couldn’t help but find it funny. What a joke it all was. I should feel ashamed, but instead I just felt tired. Stupid, gross, useless Flash alone in his bed. So sad it’s funny. I pushed everyone away and acted all sad and lonely like I didn’t deserve it. I imagined what Shane would think if he knew I was that disgusting, that I was that pathetic. 

 

Even if I was handed everything… even if someone liked me… I’d probably find a way to mess it up. It’s a mantra, that’s why it’s stuck in my head. I’ll never be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus, I'm new to fanfic writing so I got a little lost in how I should approach it and suddenly felt weird about it. When I remembered I began this story, I thought about how I should approach it and figured out what works for me. Sorry for anyone who was looking forward to more chapters, but I'm pretty sure I'll be finishing it now. This one is focussed on fleshing out Flash's insecurities, but Shane will be back next chapter.


	6. Pond Scum

I continued my streak of staying in the farm for a while longer. It was the next Friday night before I gave much thought to venturing out again. Most of my time was spent fishing, cleaning, or reading. Not much could get my mind off relationships for a while, either sexual or friendly, and usually it ended with a sense of futility and despair. At some point it began to feel more normal again, like it had before, as I settled back into quiet apathy. 

I wondered if Shane might not be at the pond again like he had been two week before. It hadn’t skirted past me that I might’ve changed my opinion of him completely since I reignited my sense of physical loneliness. I didn’t have the delusion that he might be interested in me, or even inclined to men at all, just from our few small interactions in the past. The fact that I latched onto him at all said something about how I felt about him. It wasn’t really a compliment, in fact, it more likely showed that I thought very little of him. 

If anything, I felt the need to compensate for my ugly personality by proving that I could still treat him like a friend even though I privately objectified him. While drifting back to the images that passed through my mind, the pit of my stomach would drop and I’d feel a dramatic tenseness all over. There was a mixture of emotion, both gloomy and tantalizing at the same time. I tried to think of it like a fluke, and I knew if I dwelled on the implications of it too long I would end up spiralling into a depression that could lead to me losing the motivation to earn enough money to feed myself.

I really was barely hanging by a thread. In a way, I needed to talk to somebody, even though I didn’t really want to. There was no one I’d rather talk to than Shane, so that’s what I kept telling myself. 

It was about noon before I started to stress about what hoping to meet him alone actually meant. He might not actually show up, I hadn’t seen him at all for two weeks, and I didn’t know if it would look sketchy if I suddenly showed up pretending I wasn’t waiting to see him. I tried to think about it as though Shane were me. I liked honesty, and being forthright about about one’s intention. All the stress about meeting Shane would vanish if I knew exactly what would happen, and it would be perfect if I could simply walk up to him and tell him what I wanted.

Though, what I wanted wasn’t actually completely clear to me either. If I thought about it hard, any kind of companionship was appreciated, especially by one that I could talk to easily. I didn’t know how far it would take me, but I decided to approach the entire situation as though Shane would simply understand where I was coming from if I told him everything directly. I realized it could easily just be wishful thinking that I saw a kind of kindred spirit in him, but after a while of self-coaxing it just didn’t seem like there was much to lose by going out on a limb.

I went to the Joja Mart where I knew he worked and went inside for the first time since I got into town. I had been avoiding it on account of having a personal vendetta against the company. It reeked of corporate supermarket: somewhat stale air mixed with dust and chemicals. I hadn’t worked on the floor myself, but the stores were so identical across the country that it felt like walking straight into a memory. It was extremely eerie and uncomfortable, so I sped up to try to get my business over with. I found him stocking shelves in one of the aisles, his eyes glazed over like his mind was taking a vacation.

“Hey.”

It took a moment to register at first, but then he begrudgingly raised his head to address me. He must not have recognized his voice, as his face was visibly surprised.

“Oh. Hey. I didn’t know you were still alive.” His eyes darted around behind me, suddenly animated. “I really can’t talk, they get really fuckin’ pissy if they see you slacking off.”

“Sorry, I-” I usually looked to the side when talking to someone, only making eye contact briefly to assure the person I was talking to that I was paying attention, but I found myself unable to even muster a glance, “Will you be at the pond later? I’ll bring the beer this time.”

“Sure, sure, see you later.” He waved me off.

I took the hint and left him to his work. I went to buy some beer and figure the case of 24 was probably enough. I wasn’t intending to stick to a healthy minimum, as I was ready to completely let go and get wasted. I had spent so much time in my head worrying about everything and I just wanted a night where I was happy and having fun. It felt like it had been such a long time since I felt peaceful, and I knew a good buzz could make even dreary nights feel a bit less terrible.

I felt pretty good for the rest of the evening, letting most of my worries wash away in the river after a freezing cold dip. Even on blisteringly hot days it was hard to get past the shocking cold on first impact. It was refreshing to splash it on my face and feel the sun dry it all away. I couldn’t tell if I was starting to get a better grasp on my mood, or if I was excited to see Shane. I felt like I was heaping too many expectations on his shoulders, but found it too hard to calm myself either. ‘Just have fun, have a good time,’ I told myself, ‘don’t panic.’ I let all my anxiety rest as sediment on the river bed.

Having nothing better to do, I managed to make a few small torches to put by the dock so we weren’t just sitting in complete darkness. It was only early evening when he got off work, but I didn’t know when he would head over, or if he would even decide to come at all. There was already a cooler on the dock with dirty water and two beers sitting by the dock, so I took the time to clean it and fill it with the new stock and new ice. I noticed that the leftovers were of the cheapest possible brand, which doesn’t seem that strange when you consider the cost of drinking alone every night. I got something still cheap, but a little less nasty. Afterall I intended to try to match him on his drinking and absolutely pass out. The pond was only a short walk from my house anyway, so it was all in good fun.

Luckily I saw him arriving from the distance right as the sun was about to set. He was in his own overworn clothes. Marnie’s house being on the way to the pond made it a natural first stop. I had passed the time by fishing in the pond before, so I started to tuck all my gear away into a box I brought down to keep all my stuff in when I didn’t want to haul it all the way back the the house. I was a very tidy and organized person when I felt in control, and little tasks like picking up the litter in the area didn’t seem so daunting when I had a clear, achievable goal in mind. Shane, on the other hand, looked like he had just picked up the dirty laundry that was lying on the floor and put it back on. I had taken the time to bathe and put on some clothes I thought I looked nice in, which only just made me feel like I was trying too hard, even though normally it would be considered the bare minimum of common decency.

Shane had mostly been on autopilot on the way over, but as the light caught his eye, he craned his neck up and surveyed the scene with incredulous amusement.

“What is this, a date?” He laughed it off, likely not detecting how close he hit to home.

It did feel a bit strange when I looked over it again. It wasn’t like the pier was especially comfortable or beautiful on its own. The impetus for meeting was to try to recreate the feeling of stumbling on him drinking alone in the dark and sharing a moment together. My setup was more fabricated, indicating some kind of expectation. I didn’t fret over it though.

“I didn’t have much to do today,” I admitted, “You’ll have to forgive me for being excited to hang out with you.”

He was next to me now, and he withdrew in an exaggerated shocked expression, which quickly lead into a hearty laugh that had him doubling over.

“Can’t account for your taste, I guess!” 

He laughed derisively and it lifted my spirits right away. We sat by the water’s edge and started talking about little things. He started to explain how awful the management at his store was, as well as anecdotes about their more underhanded practices. I egged the conversation on my hinting at corruption even higher up the ladder. It eventually developed into us lamenting to each other about the evils of capitalism and the dehumanization of the workforce. By the time the chatter had begun to run its course, we were both on our second beer.

I had intended to try to match him for drinking, but his pace was faster than I could really handle. I didn’t dislike the taste of beer, but it was still a harsh thing to try to chug. I was sure if I tried to down five or six at the pace he was going that I would likely just feel bloated and probably get sick. I saw him staring at the can despondently, having just delivered a monologue about how there’s nothing we can do and how things will never change. I realized I had driven towards a pretty sore topic, and even I felt bummed out about it at that point.

“You shouldn’t have to work there… you really seem to hate it.”

“Oh really, genius? I should just not work there, huh?” Shane’s tone was instantly aggressive, “That’s so fucking brilliant! Wow, I can’t believe I never thought of it!”

I was silent, so he crushed the can in his hand and flung it forwards with all the force he could muster. Some time passed without any sound or movement. In retrospect, there was probably nothing stupider that I could have thought to say, but he also overreacted by a large margin. We were both stupid idiots so neither knew what to say. My eyes wandered to the surrounding area softly lit up by the torchlight. The moon was mostly covered by clouds, so everything faded into an inky black the further away it was. There was barely any wind, so patches of dandelions and clover also sat silent and unmoving. I wondered if I could dredge the pond for all the beer cans he ever threw into the lake, and wondered how many there would be.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke first, “but I really didn’t want to hear that coming from you. You might think you know what’s going on with me , but you don’t. You couldn’t possibly understand…. and you’re kinda pissing me off with how you’re trying to be all nice to me.”

His outburst before didn’t really stir anything in me, but I started to feel sick to my stomach as he continued. I didn’t know how I could defend myself against him just stating the truth. I got a free pass out of that life through no hard work of my own, I was complaining about a system I escaped and talked about it like it was something anyone could do. I still felt cornered and stayed quiet. I tried to rack my brain for some excuse, but I couldn’t think of how to explain why I was putting in so much effort.

He grabbed another beer out of the cooler and cracked it open. He wiped off the condensation on his pants and took a long swig.

“Forget it. It doesn’t even matter.” He closed his eyes, like he was letting it all soak in, “None of it matters.”

“Sorry.” I muttered it weakly, watching him from the corner of my eye. He didn’t make a move or even change his expression. “I’ve been so stressed out lately. I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m running around in the dark as if the right direction will just light up if I waste enough time waiting for it.”

He grunted in reply, but I couldn’t tell if it was recognition or resentment. 

“I feel the same way… totally hopeless. I hate it, and I know I’m ungrateful, but… I just want to forget about it. Or wallow in it. I feel like an idiot. I don’t know.”

Shane reached out with another unopened beer towards me. Once I realized, I took it and he lifted his own in a toasting gesture.

“To feeling like an idiot!” He cheered.

I couldn’t help but smile, even though it choked me up for some reason. We clinked our cans together and began to drink in a more contented silence. It was broken a few times by Shane poking fun at me for cleaning up the pond, and me asking about how he was related to Jas and retelling a bit about my meetings with Marnie. He seemed fond of the both of them, and mentioned helping with the chickens. It was something I had wondered about him, so I pried a bit more.

“They’re great,” he smirked knowingly, like he must have had few stories to tell, “They’ve got their own personalities, and they do funny shit all the time. We have this one we call Lil’ Fat who’s so fuckin’ sassy-”

He started laughing to himself before he could explain, trying to regale some stories about Lil’ Fat through tears. I started to laugh too, more and more until I became lightheaded. It occured to me that the alcohol had probably started working its magic. ‘More!’ I thought, ‘Bring it on, let’s go crazy!’ We toasted to Lil’ Fat and he started to go on about the other chickens and what they were like. Bibs was quiet and a total pushover, Peppy was neurotic and had weird behaviors that never seemed consistent, Lil’ Fat always had to get her way and be the center of attention, etcetera. Shane absolutely lit up while talking, emphasizing his stories with spirited pantomime. 

After beer number six, I had lost track of almost all of my faculties. I hadn’t been able to keep up and lost track of how many Shane had gotten through. We went on to talk about all kinds of pets we used to have, dabbled with stories of stupid things we did when we were kids. Shane himself was red in the face and slurring his speech, even having to catch himself when he gestured too grandly. I was starting to get dizzy from the cajoling, so I took a deep breath and let out an exasperated sigh as I eased myself onto my back to collect myself. The air off the pond was cool and it felt good to relax my back. I could feel a small pounding at my temples, but overall the buzz was floaty and joyful. I was also overwhelmed with a rush of sleepiness that I hadn’t noticed creeping up on me. I stared up into the sky and watched the stars dance around in the sky like being shaken up in a snowglobe. I knew it would be a little while before my legs were sturdy enough to carry me anywhere.

Shane slumped down next to me with our shoulders touching. He stretched, yawned, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. I watched him unabashedly. He smelled bad, like body odor and cheap beer. His hair was greasy and uncombed, with signs of an uneven self-shave on the back. His spit gathered at the edge of his mouth along with a stain in his scraggly beard. Even his skin was oily and his fingernails dirty. He breathed heavily through his mouth and his breath reeked of microwave food. His sincere disregard of hygiene was clear in every detail about him. I had the impulse to shove him into the water and do him a favor.

I took out my handkerchief and carefully dabbed it in the water. With great effort, I wrung it and leaned over Shane. 

“Stay still for a second.”

“Huh?”

I gingerly wiped away at the mess on his face, getting rid of the piled on junk. He flinched at first but just as quickly relaxed and let it happen. After methodically cleaning his face, I combed my hand through his hair. I parted it and settled it, then wiped my hand off on his hoodie, making him chuckle again.

“You really are an idiot, Flash.” He clicked his tongue, “That feels good.”

“Maybe take a shower sometime.”

“Hmmph. I’ll bring it up at the council meeting.”

We scoffed tiredly at each other and exchanged insults, but it became clear we were both checking out. Shane sat up and reached inside the cooler for another beer, cracking it open before I could say anything. I was a bit surprised, but figured calling it out wouldn’t mean anything at that point. He grabbed another one and placed it in the pocket of his hoodie. 

“I should take you home, you’re gonna fall in the river and drown at this point.”

Even though he was right, my heart sank when I thought of the night ending. I was looking forward to crashing, but I dreaded waking up. I managed to get on my feet with only a little bit of a headrush. Shane also seemed to sway a bit in place, but continued to nurse his newly opened drink. We found our way down the path tumbling over and laughing like college kids leaving the bar after it closed. We walked on the bridge paths over the river like it was a kind of tightrope, holding each other up like it was a trust practice. Whenever he’d catch me I’d lean in a bit longer than I had to. 

We got to my door and relief washed over me. I knew I’d be out cold the moment my head hit the pillow. I turned to Shane, my internal voice more than certain he was going to invite himself in so we could cuddle and fall asleep in a tangled heap. He crushed his can and wiped his mouth sluggishly instead, lifting his arm as a passive goodbye signal. 

“Wait, you’re going? You’re not gonna make it back.”

“Pfff, if I’m lucky.”

A shiver passed through me, and I had a genuine moment of lucidity. ‘Come on,’ my head was yelling, ‘you have to insist. You can’t let him go.’ The image flashed in my mind of Shane blue and waterlogged washed up on the farm like a dead fish. Pale, cold, stiff... my mind became fixated on it. I moved forward and snagged his sleeve.

“N-no, wait,” I stammered out. He looked back, but his jovial mood from before had completely vanished. I could barely concentrate on one spot, let alone read his face. He tried yanking his arm away but I got pulled along with it, struggling to stay upright.

“Let go! What’s your problem?”

He resorted to pushing me away, but my equilibrium might as well have not existed for all it helped to stabilize me. I reeled back as saw the world tumbling around me and pangs of pain, but after that… nothing.


	7. Flash Flood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to change the rating on the fic to explicit for this chapter, so there's your warning for anyone who has been reading since before I changed it.

When I felt awake again, I was trying to find a comfortable lying position, fading in and out of consciousness. I was convinced to get up when switching to my left side brought on deep aching pain. I flinched and rolled back over, holding my side. It rushed back to me what happened the night before. Faint memories of falling over myself like it was a mode of transportation flitted through my head. After that, I was knocked out, or passed out, I didn’t know. I sat up with a start, suddenly paranoid. He was here.

My bed was pushed up into a corner against two walls. Shane sat in a previously upright position, now leaning over like a top heavy pancake tower. His arms were crossed and his head was bowed like a new dad asleep in the maternity ward. I was tucked in myself, but bruises dappled my side, especially on my elbow and cheek, where I must have taken the full force of the ground. I touched the spot on my cheekbone that stung and felt some wetness. I must have scraped it bad enough to rub away the skin. It didn’t hurt too badly, but it could leave a scar if I didn’t heal it right. 

None of my commotion seemed to stir Shane awake. He was breathing at least, so heavily that he teased at snoring a time or two. The last beer he was saving was empty on my little table like some kind of alter in an otherwise spartan living space. My mouth was completely parched and had a nasty bitter aftertaste when I tried to swallow. I glanced back at Shane and flipped the blanket over to cover him up to his shoulders.

When I went outside I was terrorized by the sun in my eyes. Somehow, even though the night before had an underlying moodiness, it was still the best night I had in a long time. I wished it could have ended better, but nobody died so it wasn’t that bad. My thoughts didn’t all run together, and despite the dehydration and stinging headache, I felt downright chipper, though I was hard pressed to think about why. I wondered if I wasn’t a bit too happy that Shane stayed the night.

I got water from the pump and drank from it, as well as splashed my face. It was cold as ice, which only helped to wake up any last vestige of tiredness. I had a nagging grogginess and lasting sick feeling in my gut, so I just brushed my teeth and other basic morning hygiene. I waffled on wondering how it would look if I made Shane breakfast, but I dropped it quickly. After being proven time and again, I felt that Shane’s greatest appeal was the ability to not have to worry about how I came off. He was trash and I was trash, so what was said or done was all just gas for the trash fire and no one was trying to put it out.

I didn’t actually have a kitchen, though. The house was about as minimalist as possible without being an actual shack. I usually only ate things that didn’t need cooking, or something I could throw on top of a fire without much effort like an ear of corn. I had a spot for a fire with a little stand-up grate over it. It had been one of the items left sitting around after Grandpa had gone, as well as an axe and some other tools. I thought about going through the effort of cooking something nice, but noticed that dark clouds were looming over town, so figured the effort would likely be in vain. It looked like it was about noon, or a bit later. 

It wasn’t going to be long before the clouds started raining down, and they were dark enough that it looked like it would be a lot. I knew now from spending so much of my time outside how to tell how bad a storm was going to be by the wind and the light. It was becoming overcast like the world was in a shadowbox, and the wind started and stopped, like it was throwing a tantrum but didn’t know where to place its anger. I couldn’t be certain, but it seemed like it would be one of those storms that exploded all of the sudden and made you think the world was ending until it calmed down half an hour later. I was feeling the pangs of hunger, but I figured I had to hurry to warn Shane.

I placed my glass on the table and walked over to the bed, where the advent of a blanket caused Shane to completely collapse on the bed and sprawl out. He was down for the count, but I figured I would be scolded if I didn’t at least try to wake him up. I started with a gentle pat on the shoulder, but there was no reaction. I shook his shoulder, starting light and easy and eventually shaking his whole torso and calling his name. Nothing, he was dead to the world. I fretted a bit, wondering if I should keep trying or give it up, and decided on one last effort. I pinched his cheek and pulled it. The response was an instant slap at my hand as he tossed and grumbled, “Fuck off!” and cocooned deeper into the blanket, turning to put his back to me. Fair enough, I gave it my best shot.

I at least had the presence of mind to want to warn Marnie, but I was quickly running out of time. Marnie surely knew about the incoming storm, but I imagined she wasn’t thrilled about Shane not coming home the night before. If she cared even a little bit about him, which she most certainly did, she deserved the peace of mind before she started imagining him getting washed into the ocean. I threw on a coat and some boots and practically ran all the way there. I regretted not taking some water with me and started to get the dry hangover feeling clutching at my throat and gut. I made it in good time though, and saw Marnie escorting the cows into shelter where the sounds of frenzied chickens could be heard. She didn’t see me until I got to fence and yelled for her. The wind had picked up a lot by then.

“Oh my-- Flash, what are you doing out right now?” She came over and put her hand on my shoulder, seemingly steadying us both.

“I need to talk to you!” I talked loudly and pointed at her house impatiently. She nodded and jogged to the barn to lock it up.

Inside the house the fireplace was lit and Jas was sitting beside it, staring at the flames flickering. She was surrounded by five or so stuffed animals propped up to be sitting up and leaning against each other like it was some kind of official gathering. The cacophony from the barn could still be heard through the shut kitchen door, as well as the sound of the swelling wind pushing against the creaking house. Jas gave me a sidelong glance, but when she saw it was me she went back to what she was doing, pulling her closest plush tight to her side like she thought I might try to steal it. 

Marnie came in moments later out of breath and covered in dust and animal hair. She took off her dirty boots and made her way to me.

“Honey you better hurry home! If it rains enough your farm could flood... and make sure anything you want to keep is tied down!” She started to dispense the farm wisdom that I’ve begun to depend on her for. I hadn’t seen her in so long and it made me regret not coming to see her sooner, in better circumstances. 

“I will… I, uh, just wanted to say that…” Now that I had her attention, I didn’t know how to put it. “I couldn’t get him to wake up, but Shane is safe at my house. I figured you might be worried.”

Marnie was taken aback, slightly. She raised an eyebrow and furrowed the other in an exaggerated expression that showed no relief but rather distaste. After the initial surprise, her face softened and she sighed heavily.

“Thanks… it’s good he’s… somewhere.” She spoke slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. It made me extremely uncomfortable, it hadn’t been at all what I was expecting. Marnie was so kind and warm, I was sure she would be in a panic.

I must have been pulling an obvious face of my own, because she changed to concern and touched my shoulder again.

“Ohh, please don’t get me wrong! I love Shane dearly, it really is good that he’s inside somewhere. I just.. oh…” she looked everywhere but at me, “It’s just that he barely ever comes home on the weekends. He just falls off the face of the planet for a few days then shows back up on Monday and goes to work. I used to spend so much energy wondering where he went, or if he’d ever come back, but after a while…”

She trailed off, this time looking more guilty. I had to relent, I knew how tiring it could be to worry all the time. She got her second wind and continued to berate me for going out in the weather and warning me to hurry home right away. I trusted that she knew what she was talking about, because I didn’t realize it was as bad as she was saying. She added that I should take care of her nephew for her, and sent me on my way.

She wasn’t wrong, as outside the clouds had eclipsed the sun and there was a sound of distant thunder. I fast-walked the best I could, but I eventually had to keep my pace down to what I could handle. I should have had another glass of water at Marine’s, but I had completely forgotten in the rush of it all. I thought I felt a drop or two while approaching my farm’s perimeter, then suddenly a downpour approached me like a sliding curtain.

The sound of heavy rain deafened me, and the world turned gray. I uneasily walked forward, panic starting to flutter in my chest as I traced the pathway home. The bridges I had to cross were plenty sturdy, but I was more worried about my own reliability. I crossed the first without much problem by taking it slow. The storm was making it hard to see, and the river began to rush and fill. It wouldn’t be too long before the ground became muddy and slippery, so I attempted to quicken my pace as long as I wasn’t crossing a bridge. Even in normal conditions it took about ten minutes to fully cross the farm from the south up to the house. With my strange fast-yet-cautious pace, I figured I was about halfway there and only two bridges left to go as the storm hit its stride.

I was soaked to my bones by then, my fingertips were frozen and my clothes uncomfortable and sticking to my sides. Closer to the house a gust of wind made me flail about and so I consciously went on my hands and knees to brace myself until it died down. My bruised side ached and my legs were shaking, but I got up and continued on slowly. I figured I must have looked hilarious from an outside point-of-view, but from where I stood I felt like a deer in the headlights about to be run over by a truck. Through the jarring drumming of the rain, I heard a voice yelling. I took a deep breath and trudged forward. The yelling was loud, the kind that made my throat hurt just to hear, and it was my name. I hurried towards it. 

I was surprised to see Shane standing on the porch with his hands to his mouth, shouting out across the way. When he turned and saw me, he rushed over and grabbed me, pulling me the rest of the way to through the door. It felt so good to not have the needling rain pounding on my head anymore, so I heaved a big sigh of relief and tried to wipe my dripping face off with my soaked sleeve, making my nose itch. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Man, what a dumbass.” Shane stated plainly, “Don’t you have a towel somewhere?”

I nodded and pointed to the little cabinet by the fireplace and thought of how nice it would be if it was lit and I could warm up next to it. I was already starting to sniffle as my ears and nose felt the chill in the house. It wouldn’t take long for me to feel sick if I didn’t heat up quickly. I watched Shane grumpily return, throwing the towel on my face. I was still chuckling lightly, but he didn’t seem very amused. I finally dried my face and hair, taking care to warm up my ears. 

“I know it’s a pain, but could you start the fire?” I asked, trying to put on a pseudo pathetic voice. 

Shane looked around the house. It was so small that it wasn’t hard to take in all the details at a glance, but apparently he hadn’t had the time to take it all in yet. There was some wood right next to the stone fireplace, as well as old newspapers for kindling. I was really fond of having a fireplace when I moved in, and tried to light it most nights when I could. A lighter was clearly placed on the mantle as well, so before long he turned back to me and shrugged, suggesting that he’d do it.

His hair had gotten a bit wet too, and he’d even taken off his hoodie and hung it over the chair. I wondered how long he had been awake. With the loud rain and squealing walls it wasn’t a surprise he might get up. I wondered what he was thinking when he looked around, or what he was ever thinking. I liked to pretend he was just like me, but he was actually a complete stranger. He started messing with the fireplace and I started peeling off the sopping layers of clothing.

“Don’t turn around for a while, I’m gonna dry off.”

“Hurry up.”

I collected everything into its own nasty puddle on the floor. The water was running out of them, so I grabbed the heap and tossed it out onto the patio along with my boots. I quickly wiped down my body, feeling a lightening all over. The exposure to the air only chilled me more, but I didn’t want to cover up until I was completely dry. I reflexively wrapped the towel around me tightly like a blanket and audibly shivered. Shane reflexively turned around.

“H-hey, what did I say?” I gripped the towel even tighter.

“You--! You made a weird noise!” Shane quickly turned back to the fireplace and started flicking the lighter nervously before it finally lit.

‘Turn back around…’ I thought, feeling a flutter in my stomach, ‘Come on… don’t you want to warm me up…’

My mind started to fill with provocative thoughts, once again clamoring over each other to be seen. ‘If you kissed and licked my ear I bet it would warm up really quick. You could give me your body warmth if you take off your shirt and wrap me in your arms.’ Thinking these things when he was right there in front of me felt overly perverted, but seeing him living and breathing in front of me while I thought of his beard rubbing up against my thighs…

Well, that’s how I got a boner. I endeavored to think of anything else at all, but it was a useless effort. The more I tried to get rid of it, the more I ended up thinking about it. Even though it started as small surge, it got coerced into a much bigger problem. I also knew if I took too long it was going to to look fishy, so I took deep breaths and just tried to finish drying off so I could get dressed. If I pulled the blanket over me I could probably hide it until it went away. 

I did my best with my pants and grabbed the blanket to toss over my shoulders and hugged it to my chest. The storm raged on outside, varying in intensity from apocalyptic to nearly calm, back and forth. Shane was trapped here until the storm calmed down, and similarly I couldn’t just jump in my bed and jerk off either. What if Shane jerked me off, rubbing his cock against my ass and bringing me close before sticking it in… I was inconsolable. I sat on the bed away from the burgeoning fire even though earlier it seemed like exactly where I’d like to be. I wanted so badly to ask Shane to leave the house, or for me to go out and wack off in the summer storm. I couldn’t seem to will it away as long as he was right there, so much so that it was becoming frustrating and my heart began to beat in my ears.

“Hey.”

I didn’t realize I had been tightly shutting my eyes until I opened them to see Shane standing over me. I felt my face blush and I choked up, I had no idea how it might have looked to him, but I couldn’t even muster an excuse. He shifted around like he was trying to think of something to say himself.

“Flash, do you wanna fuck?”

My initial thought was nothing, as it didn’t register. I thought the situation might have been me running through one of my fantasies. After all... the rain, the fire, it was a surreal situation all of the sudden. All the feelings I was trying to repress came awake at once and I felt flooded with anticipation. 

“Y-yeah.” 

He put a knee on the bed and leaned over me. His proximity lit me up with goosebumps and an inviting shiver creeped up my back. He went straight for my lips, and it devolved into sloppy, breathy kissing almost as soon as it begun. I felt like a dog let out into the yard. I started feeling up under his shirt, tracing up his back with my fingers. I pulled him onto me and started to defenselessly moan. I was already halfway there, impulsively dry humping any part of him I could catch onto. Having been given the go-ahead, I felt free to shamelessly get off on him. At the very least I could tell he was just about as turned on as I was.

Having not yet put on a shirt, the blanket fell away as I was pushed onto the bed and he began running his hand down my chest until it found a grip on my side. He moved his mouth from mine down to my neck where he lightly bit and sucked at it. I jerked away and grabbed his head with both my hands. He looked up at me inquisitively and my heart nearly stopped from overstimulation.

“I’m really sensitive… on my neck. Really…” I emphasized the word, but I could barely get it out before he started grinning at me. 

“What, are you gonna cum by kissing?”

He struggled against my hands to get back to where he was, his breath already tickling the parts that were wet from his tongue. His hand slid from my waist down my leg and pulled it up towards my chest. Suddenly it felt so stupid that I had gone through the effort of putting pants on at all. I fought back his attempt to blow my load early and yanked at his shirt. We tussled and tossed around taking off the remaining articles of clothing in between grinding and kissing. Once he slid off my underwear, he sat up to look at me. I stiffened, feeling unexpectedly self-conscious, and clenched my fists nervously while scanning his face. 

He had only lost his shirt and unbuttoned his pants. I could still see the hints of a hard-on through the open fly. He softly sketched a line from my stomach down to where my legs cradled his sides.

“Do you have a condom?”

I wanted to cry, but instead I covered my face with both my hands. I absolutely did not have any condoms, it was never even something I thought I would need. I couldn’t have possibly expected things would develop like they did. I shook my head no in full shame pose. The response was a derisive laugh from him that it sounded like he barely managed to stifle. He grabbed one of my hands and pried it off my face, squeezing it tightly.

“Don’t freak out, it’s fine.” He moved to take off his pants, “We don’t have to do that to get off anyway.”

I couldn’t lie to myself, I felt some sinking despair at the revelation still. I had been craving it since the word ‘fuck’. Though in my current horny state, I was willing to accept just about anything. He threw off his pants in an instant, it seemed they were a few sizes too big for him to begin with. He was wearing boxer briefs that were old enough to have a few holes worn in them were his thighs rubbed together. 

I took the initiative and sat up, leaning in and teasing the underwear down, kissing lower and lower down his pelvis as I exposed it. I finally got to hear him making some noises when I got down to his cock and lightly licked up the length of it. I didn’t actually have any experience with cocksucking, so I was a bit paranoid about what I should do exactly, but like everything else with Shane, I just went for it. I knew what felt good when I touched myself, so I tried to go for a rhythm that usually turned me on. 

I started teasingly, acting like I was going to put it in, but just provoked it with my tongue instead. After that I picked up pace, pulling on my own dick at the same time to get a feeling for how fast to go. He must have already been heated because after just a while his cock started twitching and he instinctively grabbed the back of my head and started thrusting into me. I was so far gone at that point that I came right there, smelling his sweat, feeling his dick swell as it rubbed against the inside of my mouth, and hearing him gasping and panting… before I knew it I was climaxing, gagging on his cum as my own dribbled down my fingers.

He pulled out right away but I had to throw my hand up to my mouth so that I didn’t just eject it all over the floor. Cum in general is usually rancid, but it can be the best thing in the world if you’re in the right mood. I tried to swallow as much as I could and let the rest pour out on its own. I tried to wipe it away but it just spread it around instead. It made it a bit hard to breath, so I resorted to coughing some of it up. I felt the towel against my cheek and realized Shane had started cleaning me up himself. He wiped at the corners of my mouth and around my lip after I collapsed backwards back onto the bed. He hovered over me, looking at me with completely inscrutable face. I hadn’t even noticed that the rain had stopped until the only sounds in the cabin was the crackling of burning wood. 

He just stared at me. Not into my eyes, just my face, like he was looking at a book in another language. He was still catching his breath and his eyes seemed somewhat distant and dreamy. I didn’t know what to say, or if I should say anything at all. It suddenly felt like I must have been dreaming, though if I had been dreaming I would hope I could have dreamt up a condom. 

The thought made me smirk, which seemed to draw him back into reality. He chuckled slightly then rolled onto the bed. He wrangled the blanket out from under me and pulled it over the both of us, sidling up close so our naked bodies touched. They were still beaded with sweat and our skin tried to stick together. 

“God, what time is it…”


	8. Drink Like a Fish

The rain was on and off all day, but from that time on it was mostly short, light showers. Sometimes the sun shone, completely uncovered, which only helped to make it unbearably muggy. There must have been a rainbow around somewhere, but I hadn’t tried to look for it. 

 

Shane revealed that I hadn’t blacked out the night before, at least not right away. After I fell over he helped me into bed the best he could with me tossing and turning around and him well soused at that point as well. I began to pour my guts out to him about how he should sleep with me and how my ‘flesh was crying out for him.’ The news absolutely mortified me, but Shane clearly found it funny beyond compare. He didn’t reveal much of what he thought about it, but since he slept with me after I sobered up he must have at least respected me. 

 

We laid in the bed until the fire fizzled out, which didn’t take much time since it was being neglected from the start. I was awash with a relaxed state, most likely the aftereffects of built-up tension being released with a good orgasm. I must have been beaming, because he told me to wipe the annoying smile off my face and smothered me with my pillow. We talked about what felt good and fooled around a bit more under the covers. 

 

Eventually we got up and put back on some clothes. He volunteered to go to the pond and see if the cooler had washed away and I was able to get him to also check on my fishing gear. He suggested I go into town and buy some more beer and condoms, which I accepted. First, I tried to wring out and hang up my wet clothes. The intermittent showers didn’t help, and I worried that my coat was going to be out of commission for a day or two longer. After the sun had come out, I made the journey into town.

 

It was still early afternoon, before seven, since that was likely around when the sun would be setting at that time of year. I saw a few people milling about in town, but none of them tried to interact with me. I was grateful that they kept away, though I didn’t have a real reason besides not wanting the hassle. It had finally been long enough after I moved in that people stopped being curious about who I was, or how things were going on the farm. I probably left enough of a breadcrumb trail to start some gossip if anyone was so inclined, but that was none of my business as long as I didn’t have to deal with it personally. Most the people I passed by I didn’t recognize at all, but it made me wonder how Emily was doing and hoping that she wasn’t wasting any time worrying about me.

 

At the store I was in-and-out pretty quickly. I headed home right after, not making any stops along the way. The path was actually pretty straight from one end of the town where Joja Mart was back to the farm. It was long, but not very scenic. I passed the doctor’s office and a community board outside the local general store, but there wasn’t much to see. The trip felt like it took an eternity even though it must have been less than an hour in total. With every passing minute, my paranoia began to grow. 

 

The town made me nervous and antsy, more than I even realized. Even though people walked by without a second glance, I was always sure that they were going to spin around and ask me what I was planning to do. Was I really going to hole up in my dusty cabin all summer, having sex and getting drunk? What would people think if they knew, and how many people knew already… were they already talking about how Shane took me home one night and stopped going back to Marnie’s house… What must they all think of Shane, and of me… do they think about us at all… do they think we’re disgusting, do they wish we would just fall into the river and die…

 

The thoughts preoccupied my mind until I was at the abandoned bus stop outside my farm, where no one ever went. I felt hot and dizzy, so I took a moment to sit down and breathe. It didn’t happen often, but sometimes when I was distracted like that I would start to quicken my walking and forget to breathe normally. Once when I was in high school I even grayed out, nearly passing out from lack of oxygen. The light around me would intensify until I couldn’t see anything but white anymore, and my head would fuzz and ring. My mom told me it wouldn’t have happened if I paid more attention and didn’t go off daydreaming, so I believed that for a really long time.

 

Now I knew I just had to sit down and breathe. 

 

Shane gave the impression he didn’t care at all what happened, or what others thought about him. It was refreshing, but I wasn’t so naive as to think it didn’t come with its own slew of problems. He didn’t care if he was clean or dirty, healthy or sick, happy or sad, dead or alive. It wasn’t some kind of carefree abandon, but rather hopeless nihilism. In a way, I was taking advantage of it to make myself feel better. Would it be better if I was more like him and didn’t care whether it was a good relationship or not?

 

I finally ended up getting to the house while the sun was still well in the sky. I kept trying to estimate the time, but I didn’t necessarily have the best internal clock. I looked around to see if Shane had come back, but he hadn’t. The trip into town would normally take a lot longer than a trip to the pond, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was taking his time or stopping by to see Jas. I spent time messing with the farm, of what little I had worked on already. My firepit I used for cooking was soaked through, so I took the charred logs out until I could replace them later. I didn’t have my fishing gear at the house, so I looked through some of Grandpa’s old things and organized them a bit. I sorted out the stuff that was truly garbage fodder and pitched it. The little toolshed was dusty and disgusting, with plenty of signs of old rat nests. They were probably abandoned after Gun the cat came around. I wondered how she fared in the storm. There was rotted corners in the shed that an animal could likely fit through without much effort. I hoped she managed to find some shelter.

 

After a while of messing with one little thing after another to keep my attention, the sun began to set. It couldn’t have been much longer past four when I came back, and my time spent trying not to think about how much time had passed was over. It had been hours, maybe four or five, since I left. I had to do something else before the day was over. Shane could have gone to Marnie’s ranch and stayed for dinner, or he could have gone into town too, or taken a walk, but the reality was that he was probably not going to come back. I remembered what Marnie told me this morning, that on the weekends he tended to just disappear. I wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. 

 

Naturally I first felt disappointment and confusion. It wasn’t like I could just keep him at my house and have him be doting on me all the time, but part of me hoped it wasn’t some one night stand. At the same time, I worried that something could have happened and he might need my help. My mind was running circles around itself trying to find some ideal scenario out of a situation it didn’t like. The most realistic reaction would be to sulk a bit and get over it. If he needed a time out then he could have it, and it wasn’t really my place to say I deserve anything more. 

 

I rubbed against the scratch on my cheekbone and it sent a pleasurable pain down my nerves. I pushed pressure onto it a time or two before stopping. If I messed with it too much, it would scar up and I’d look worse than I already did.

 

I tried to shake the whole thing from my thoughts as though it was completely fine, but I knew that my brain wanted desperately to obsess about it. ‘I’m not that good-looking, he probably did it out of pity’, ‘I was coming on too strong, I must have looked desperate the whole time’, ‘Would I want to be around me right now, just look at how obnoxious I’m being’, ‘I’m pathetic, how could I let this happen, why did I think it would be okay’, and ‘even if I was handed everything…’

 

I tried to hold back a few tears, but the hate I felt for crying over something so stupid just made me want to cry more. I wanted to get smacked hard across the face, or throw myself off a cliff. It felt like I needed some kind of punishment for feeling like I did, even though I knew it was a reaction to an overreaction. It was exhausting to know it was all wrong but be powerless to break the cycle, so eventually I just let it all marinate and soak in until I felt blank again. I was a big waste of oxygen, a waste of this land, and a waste of life. I remembered how nice it was to just be drunk and laughing with Shane. I figured I could go to the pond to check on my gear in case he hadn’t bothered.

 

It was dark by then and it was hard to see very far since the moon was low enough to be mostly obscured by the mountains and forests on the horizon. I thought it might be nice to light up the paths between the bridges on the farm, and it wouldn’t even take that much work. I could also work to make the path a bit nicer. I could use some of the excess stone to make a walkway instead of having to walk through the mud like I did now. I didn’t have two pair of boots, so I had to wear the wet ones. It made me wish I had a hairdryer or a heating unit I could lay it across. I had to also start thinking of how I was going to survive in the winter. Little projects like that could preoccupy me for a while.

 

After I made my way to the pond, the sky was a little brighter, if only because my eyes had adjusted. The torches I planted near it hadn’t blown away, and the chest with my gear was also in the same spot, though it had a small muddy puddle collected at the bottom. I gathered the pole and the toolbox I kept most of my lures and tackle in and left the chest open to hopefully dry out the next day. It occured to me that all that time I spent wallowing in despair could have been spent gathering fresh worms for bait after they got pushed out by all the rain. They were probably all around, but I hadn’t noticed. Maybe there would still be some tomorrow. Maybe I could turn my farm into a worm farm... that was something people did. I wondered how one was supposed to farm worms.

 

The entire day had been a whirlwind of emotions. It was no wonder that I avoided people. The day started with me feeling like everything was perfect, continued with the release of pent-up sexual frustration, and ended with abandonment issues. Now I was apathetic once again, which served me better anyway now that I was getting things done. Was the fun I had talking with and touching Shane really been a waste of time, compared to the weeks I spent alone doing hardly anything at all? Why couldn’t I just appreciate things for what they were instead of lamenting that they weren’t perfect? The thought gave me some well-needed clarity and I took it upon myself to finally move on from the imaginary drama of it all.

 

Curiously, the cooler was still on the pier, but absolutely covered in mud and grime. It looked like it might’ve been pulled out of the pond. The insides were empty but clean, except for some water from the melted ice or rain that got in through the cracks. Using my impeccable detective work, I could assume Shane fished the cooler out, drank the rest of the beer, and went to do whatever he does when he’s alone. If it was true, then at least he wasn’t in any real danger like Marnie was suggesting. It was a slimeball move to just take all the alcohol I bought and not tell me he wasn’t coming back, but he had also done everything in his power to convince me he was a slimeball, so I didn’t have much recourse in feeling wronged. A few hours ago I might have felt pain or anger, but now I just felt like shrugging it off. That’s just how he was, and it’s part of what drew me to him in the first place. He just doesn’t give a shit about anything.

 

I still wanted to see him though. Somehow, it made me miss him. What was he doing drinking alone all the time anyway… it’s not like it tasted that good, or like drinking alone was all that fun. He didn’t ever drink just a little bit either, but a metric ton of it. I always seemed to pass out before he was even done. I wondered how far he had actually gone, and if I had just casually skimmed past a deadly addiction he had. It showed how little I thought of him. What would it matter if he was an alcoholic anyway, what could I possibly say that he hadn’t already heard. Even more, who was I to talk. 

 

Stuck in a job he hates but can’t leave, spending all his money on booze, living in his Aunt’s house, no friends… I could see why he be a bit of a pariah. To think he thought I had so much to live for compared to him, while I thought we were the same. I didn’t want to think too much about which one of us was closer to the truth as I was afraid I’d simply spiral into a litany of self hatred and doubt. 

 

I wondered where he went. If he truly went off somewhere every weekend he wouldn’t have survived for very long if he was drunk and sleeping out in the open exposed to the elements. It was still the early evening so I laid my gear back down on the grass and went about exploring the forest area near the pond.

 

It was actually mostly cleared without too much foliage to push through. It was a large swath of land between Marnie’s ranch and the ocean. There was a river that snaked through town that came to its conclusion here, and I had fished in this area quite a lot. Marnie had a neighbor near the river who was a young artist, but I had never met her besides seeing her at the saloon a time or two. She also drank alone even though she was a very attractive young lady. I should stop being surprised that everybody has their own problems. 

 

Once I made it to the cliff to the south that looked over the ocean, I noticed a weatherbeaten house dotted with peeling paint and broken windows. If anyone had lived there, they had long since abandoned it to nature. Any trace of humanity had been buried beneath shrubs and mud. The planks making up the siding were sagging towards the earth, hoping to break apart and rejoin their mother. Having grown up being the kind of child who looked for places to hide besides going home, I recognized it as a kind of holy grail. It had all the trappings of shelter, but was repulsive and hidden from prying eyes. It wasn’t an easy walk from any place of prominence, and the foliage made it imperceptible at a range. Shane had met his match in disappearing from society. 

 

A quick look inside confirmed that it was his personal disaster zone. Beer cans littered the floor, some even submerged in piles of rubbish and dirt themselves. It was a fairly disgusting sight, and at that point I wished I hadn’t come looking for it. He lay sprawled out on a makeshift bed with a ratty blanket covering him. His sleeping position looked like that of someone who jumped from a window and splattered on the concrete of the sidewalk below. He always seemed to sleep in a way that made me want to check to see if he was still breathing. I didn’t want to take the chance of waking him up, though in all likelihood he wouldn’t even wake up if the entire house fell into the ocean. 

 

I didn’t like it. It felt like I was looking into his diary or putting a camera in his bathroom. It wasn’t fair that I saw him like this. I started back on the long walk home. It was dark, and the humid air was stifling. To think I had more beer waiting for him at my house. To think that I still wished that he’d turn up tomorrow and be happy to see me. 


End file.
